Decisions
by Ani-maniac494
Summary: A single decision can shape a lifetime. Three decisions John Sheppard never made. A short series of AUs.


Spoilers: Spoilers for Rising I, and Outcast.

Disclaimer: Maybe there's a universe somewhere where I own Stargate Atlantis, lol…but it isn't this one. :)

A/N: SGA bunnies seem to sneak up on me. This was an idea I got as I was working on my last fic, "Before A Fall," and I went, "Hm, that might be interesting," but I didn't originally plan to write it. Then I sat down and started typing, and…I had another fic, lol.

As always, the credit for this all goes to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who is the source of all inspiration. I can never praise Him enough for all He's done. :)

I hope you'll enjoy it, and please let me know what you think!

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**Decisions**

_1. __Fate_

He'd said no.

John tried not think about it often, but there wasn't a lot to do _besides_ think in between ferrying scientists and military brass out to the Ancient base. And since his ATA gene guaranteed that he still got roped into playing human on/off switch every time he set foot on the place, thinking about the expedition was pretty inevitable.

He wondered what had happened to them. His General O'Neill-given security clearance meant he had access to the outpost, but since he'd refused the mission, that was as far as his clearance went. All other intel about Stargate operations was need-to-know…and nobody thought he needed to know.

He tried to tell himself he was okay with that.

He'd meant it when he'd told General O'Neill that he liked Antarctica.

That didn't stop him from being curious, though. And he was. He wanted to know just what he'd said no to, and what had happened to the people who'd said yes. They'd hung around Antarctica long enough for him to get to know some of them, not very well, but enough. McKay, the obnoxious scientist who'd bristled whenever Weir mentioned "genetic superiority." Beckett, the Scottish doctor who'd kept apologizing for almost killing him. Ford, the young Lieutenant who'd given him a tour of the base.

They hadn't been his friends exactly, but…maybe they could have been. So, when an unexpected snowstorm grounded his chopper, John decided to ask around.

He started with the civilian scientists, since they were a little more lax about security protocols. Not that they told everybody about their highly classified research on an ancient, alien outpost, but they pretty much seemed to figure that if you were on the base, you had clearance.

It wasn't hard to find a scientist he knew…or, well, recognized. He couldn't really say that he knew the guy since most of their conversations consisted of, "Turn this on." He wound up doing just that - turning things on - but after a few minutes, he managed to slip in a question about Atlantis.

"Atlantis? Oh, yes, unfortunate about the expedition isn't it?" the scientist murmured as he examined yet another device he wanted John to activate.

"Unfortunate?"

"Yes. I suppose I can't blame the military for declaring them KIA, though. After a year and a half without any contact at all, it's incredibly unlikely that they're still alive."

_KIA…_

The word seemed to reverberate in his skull. He'd heard it before, too many times, lost a lot of friends that way, come pretty close to being KIA himself, but somehow…this was different.

A hollow sensation lodged itself in his chest, and he tried to force it away.

It wasn't like it would have made any difference if he'd gone with the expedition. He would have died along with them. He didn't have any reason to feel guilty.

If he told himself that enough, maybe someday, he'd actually start to believe it.

* * *

_2. __Duty_

John sat in the living room, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped loosely in his lap. It was quiet; Nancy's soft footsteps were the only sound in the house as she walked back and forth in their bedroom, packing.

She was leaving.

John closed his eyes. He knew things had been rough the lately. There'd been more missions, more phone calls in the middle of the night, but, he'd thought - hoped - she understood.

He loved her.

Maybe he couldn't always find the words to tell her that, but he did. He'd thought - hoped - she understood that, too.

They'd gone to a carnival for their first date. It had been cheesy and romantic and clichéd, and his father would have absolutely hated the idea - which had made John like it even more. The fact that Nancy had enjoyed it too was a very definite plus.

They'd gone on all the rides, and spent some time at the shooting range just so he could win a stuffed animal for her. (Nancy had insisted that if they were gonna embrace the cliché, they couldn't leave that part out.)

He remembered the feel of her snuggled against him in the cool night air, the way she'd fit so perfectly at his side, the way she'd let him kiss her, and the way she'd kissed him back…

He'd liked Ferris Wheels ever since.

He didn't want to lose her.

John opened his eyes and looked down at his hands, carefully running a finger over the gold band on his left. Then, he pushed himself up from the sofa, and walked upstairs to their room. He stopped in the doorway, watching silently as Nancy packed her suitcase.

"If I asked to be re-assigned…would you stay?"

Nancy hesitated for a moment, biting her lip, but finally, she nodded. "Yes. Yes, I would."

He requested a transfer the next day.

* * *

_3. __Freedom_

John sat at his desk, surrounded by stacks of paperwork. His agenda for the next day rested on top, demanding his attention even as he tried to ignore it.

He hated this.

He hated being stuck in an office, hated paperwork, hated _agendas_, hated business in general. This was his dad's and his brother's world - not his. He had never fit in here, and never would.

But he'd still chosen to stay.

It wasn't for the money; money had never mattered to him. Even if he was from a rich family - or maybe because of it - he'd learned early on that what was really important couldn't be bought.

He hadn't stayed for his father either, though if he were honest, that was part of it. He'd wanted to prove his father wrong. Patrick Sheppard had insisted that his youngest son would never be successful in business - and the look on his face when John's portion of the company had doubled its annual gross had almost made the extra hours spent in the office worth it. Almost.

But, if someone expected him to go left, he usually wanted to go right. If someone said something was impossible, he'd do it, just to show them that it wasn't. John had always been like that. He'd never really questioned that part of himself - it just was.

_Stubborn_, he remembered his mother saying once.

_Foolhardy_, his father had told him repeatedly.

John figured he was probably both.

Sometimes…sometimes he wondered if he'd stayed because he'd started to think his dad was right: he'd been headed down a road that would have gotten him nowhere.

John sighed, looking down at the paperwork again, then pushed himself away from the desk, standing so he could look out the window. He had a good view from his office on the top floor; he could see for miles on a clear day.

It made him think of flying.

He didn't get to fly as much as he wanted to, just on rare weekends off. He'd bought his own plane a few weeks after he'd taken his place at the company - having money did come with a few perks.

Flying wasn't what he'd thought it would be, though. When he'd first considered joining the Air Force, before he'd decided on Stanford instead, he'd always equated flying with freedom. But freedom wasn't really freedom when you didn't like what was waiting for you back down on the ground.

It felt…empty.

John hated that most of all.

**Fin**

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A/N: The last AU, Freedom, is vaguely connected to my SGA fic, "Before A Fall," written from Patrick Sheppard's POV, about the events that pushed John and his father apart. If you're interested, I hope that you'll read it. :)

Please let me know what you think!

Take care and God bless!

Ani-maniac494 :)


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